


Rode Hard, Put Away Wet

by Xekstrin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 03:48:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14685813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xekstrin/pseuds/Xekstrin
Summary: McCree spent a good portion of his adult life pining after Gabriel Reyes. After so many years of inaction, can he really be jealous that Moira was bold where he was not?However, he’s pretty sure the worst way to cope with it is to develop a crush on her, too.





	Rode Hard, Put Away Wet

In hidden corners, in stairwells, in lean-tos out in the desert, in cargo bays and squeezed into uncomfortable aircraft seats, Jesse slept. Curled into a ball, sometimes, or one knee up to his chest while the other sprawled out, his gun on his lap. For two, three hours at a time. Cat naps in between missions and research, doggedly following orders in pursuit of knowledge, of justice. The last time he slept in a bed it was because Angela forced him to.

Jesse rarely fell asleep long enough to dream, or to fully lose consciousness. So he spent a few moments groggily wondering why there was someone else in the bed with him.

The bed smelled soft and sweet. Maybe he'd passed out in Ziegler's room? He remembered talking to Angela last night, though he couldn't remember why. It wouldn't be that unusual. She was his best friend, he loved her. There were so few people they could fully trust.

When he felt soft skin, he frowned in confusion. Angela had never actually shared the bed with him before. Blearily, he blinked. A blue eye was staring back at him, yes, but it was wholly unfamiliar.

Cold and sharp, Moira O'Deorain watched him for a moment longer before sighing and nestling deeper into the pillows. "Hmm."

Jesse recoiled, growing pale as he tried to wriggle backward off the mattress only to meet another warm, solid body. A scarred arm draped over his chest; an old military tattoo etched in faded ink marked it as belonging to one Gabriel Reyes.

Oh. Oh god.

"Miss— I mean, doc— ma'am, I didn't— was I— did I—" Trapped between Reyes and O'Deorain, Jesse curled up into a little ball of embarrassment.

"Relax." Moira waved one hand up, shooing him dismissively. "Nothing happened. You pawed at my door last night crying until I let you in. Then you collapsed next to the commander." She huffed. Her narrow, freckled back jumped with the movement.

This was her room. Of course Reyes was also there, still fast asleep. Everyone knew the doctor and the commander were an item, it was an open Blackwatch secret. The real question was how Jesse had ended up here. Moira's answer was vague and frustrating and to tell the truth, he didn't trust the doctor much outside the field.

"Um—" His voice cracked as Reyes held him closer. "Are you sure—"

"Jesse, the commander is asleep." Moira interjected, propping herself up so she could look at him fully. "If I fucked you, you would remember it. Now, if you're going to move around and be noisy, either make us coffee or get out."

Nodding quickly, Jesse managed to wiggle out of Reyes' arms and off the bed. He was in his drawers, though he spotted his jeans folded up on a nearby chair. Hopping into them one leg at a time, Jesse made his way over to the little shelf where Moira kept her coffeemaker.

Stoves were out of the question in the barracks, but officers could have a hot plate, coffee makers, things like that. His fingers trembled as he realized he didn't really know what he was doing. Moira had given him a free out, blunt as always, but offered freely nonetheless.

_Make the coffee,_

_Or get out._

When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Moira had taken his spot right next to the commander. She slept in his arms, head against his chest. They looked good together, bare from the waist up. Reyes's hand stroked her back, tracing the lines of her shoulder blades before resting on the back of her fiery head. The water bubbled and brewed, and drew his attention back forward.

He made the coffee.

Reyes caught up with him later in the day, on the range. "Doing okay, Jesse?" he asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

It wasn't easy to shoot when Reyes stood right next to him. Every time Jesse felt those calloused, heavy hands on his skin he suddenly couldn't breathe. It made his accuracy go up, but if this kept on for much longer he'd pass out.

"Nice," Reyes complimented him. The barrel was still smoking. When he removed his hand from Jesse's shoulder the younger man could inhale again, a sudden rush through his nostrils like a spooked horse. He hoped Reyes didn't notice, but he was a spymaster and a veteran of the worst global conflict in human history: he noticed.

"I just wanted to talk to you real quick." His voice was gentle. "Thank you for trusting me."

Jesse made a questioning noise as a new row of aiming bots rolled out. He eyed Reyes uncomfortably, growing tense. He was always surprised when Reyes didn't act like the other commanders, barking orders, wielding rank like a cudgel. Instead he displayed a deep emotional intelligence that seemed at odds with his rough exterior.

Reyes didn't act like any of Jesse's brothers in the Deadlock gang, had nothing in common with Jesse's criminal past, the ones who beat the tar out of him when he stepped out of line.

Didn't act like any man or soldier or fighter or survivor Jesse had ever met.

Jesse still carried all the scars and the brand marks from those days, though he covered up his ink with rorschach blots all over his chest and thighs. He flirted with the idea of getting one last tattoo for Blackwatch, but in the end he didn't want to associate Blackwatch with his gang habits. It'd also be a bad idea to have anything on his body that identified him, in case he was ever taken prisoner.

Jesse frowned. "You're thankin' me?"

"Yeah." Reyes turned away from him, and some of the pressure eased up. It was less choking to talk when they were standing side by side, with the distraction of targets in front of them. "You were in a rough state. I'm glad you felt safe with me."

That made sense... sort of. "Sorry if I intruded."

"You didn't." Reyes pulled out a side arm from one of the lockers, a little peashooter just to get his monthly target quota filled. "Is there anything going on you wanna talk about?"

Jesse spun the chamber of his revolver, aching to have a cigar in his mouth, even if just to chew on. Overwatch bases were picky about where they let him have his smokes. "No."

He expected more pressure. Questioning. Was he on drugs? Was he drunk? Was he in trouble? No, no, no. The truth was far more embarrassing: he hadn't slept in a week.

Couldn't sleep.

"Just know my door is always open if you need me, kid."

Jesse's feet shuffled, uncomfortable still. There it was.

 _I'm just a kid to you,_ he thought, unloading round after round into the bots. Headshot after headshot. _I'm just a kid. I'm still just a fucking child._

"Thank you, Commander."

 

* * *

 

It was better than being treated like a lab rat, at least. Moira injected him with some noxious slurry of painkillers, stem cells, and (probably) blood magic to try and regrow his left arm. Burn marks scoured him from shoulder to wrist, injection marks tracked from all the trial drugs and attempts to fix him. It burned when she pushed the plunger in. Then, once the worst was over, she regained favor in his eyes by smoothing it over with some light banter (his preferred bedside manner).

"If you behave, I'll give you a lollipop afterwards."

"Shucks, doc. Do I get a sticker, too?"

"I may have some colorful bandages here..." she said, holding a cotton swab over the injection site.

It wasn't just restlessness that kept him awake for days at a time. Getting comfortable was impossible when he could still feel Omnic radiation burning his nerve endings, splitting them apart, unraveling him like yarn on an old sweater. Some nights all he wanted to do was sweat and moan, rolling around in dull, aching hurt. His left arm was miles better than it had been back in the day, but that didn't mean he was cured.

"How are you feeling?" Moira asked, smooth latex gloves cold against his skin. He sat on the edge of the examination table, legs swinging slightly.

"Wonderin' when we're gonna bite the bullet and chop it off." Jesse itched to cover his left arm. When he'd been rolling with the Deadlock gang they always stared at it, watching it slowly wither away into a thin, black thing. So wearing a serape became habit. Now he felt naked without it. Especially when Moira was rolling thick, blue paste over his skin to try and stimulate healing.

His arm looked normal, now. Almost normal. More trouble than it was worth, in his opinion.

"That's more of a last resort." Her focus on her work didn't interfere with communicating at all. Multitasker. "We're not Vishkar, we're not going to lop off your arms just because gears would serve you better."

"I'm just sayin'. They got all kinds of fancy prosthetic arms now, doc. We don't need to hold onto this one on account of I was born with it."

Her lips twitched, eyes flickering up at him. Was he imagining things, or did she seem proud? "That's very forward-thinking of you, Jesse. But Overwatch wants me to exhaust all other options first."

"Hurry it up, then."

"Don't be demanding." Moira stripped off her gloves and tossed them into a nearby bin.

"Hmmm." He shook his arm as the painkillers set in. A pleasing, warm buzz. "So I don't get a lollipop?"

"I already told you candy is for exemplary patients only. Say pretty please and perhaps I'll consider it."

In response, Jesse pulled a cigar from one of his belt pouches. He waved it enticingly, not missing how Moira tracked it with her eyes. "I'll trade you for it."

"Ahh." She hissed, grimacing. "Temptor."

Her head twitched towards the cameras in the lab. Then she walked to her desk, pulling out a thin device, clicking a few buttons on it. He'd seen the commander fiddle with something similar, and knew they weren't being recorded anymore.

"Give me that," she demanded, voice sharp.

Jesse passed her the cigar with a smirk.

Moira leaned in, letting him light it for her. Eyes closed, she took a few puffs with an expression of pure bliss. "Oh, Jesse," she fairly moaned. "You bring out the worst in me."

"How long have you been trying to quit, again?" Jesse licked his thumb and forefinger, crushing the match with a hiss. Then he fiddled with what was left, dancing singed wood over his knuckles.

"Ten years," she said around a ring of smoke, answering honestly though he'd mostly been joking. "My late thirties... and a bit into the current decade."

The matchstick snapped between his fingers, pulse beating a little faster all of a sudden. Ten years ago he had been eighteen.

Thankfully Moira didn't comment on his silence; she rarely did. They were all good about that in Blackwatch, they always knew everybody had a lot on their minds.

Didn't matter that right now all he had on his mind was pure filth. Especially when she passed the cigar back to him so he could share. He got a little thrill from knowing her mouth, her lips, had been wrapped around it.

Bad. Bad thoughts. Bad. Very bad and wrong.

When he made to pass it back to her, she declined. "No, I've indulged enough. I'll be a gentleman and let you have the rest." He made a face instinctively, and her gaze sharpened. "What? Did I insult you somehow?"

"Last person said they'd be a gentleman was my ex-boyfriend," Jesse said. "Before he tried to cut my eyes out, anyhow." Outlaws rarely made tender lovers, to his unfortunate firsthand knowledge.

"Ah. Well." Moira had a peculiar way of smiling when she was trying not to laugh. It was probably the purest expression she had, no artifice in the way her eyes crinkled, crow's feet deepening like they were drawn in dark ink. "For the record, if I were your boyfriend, I would never treat you like that."

"You offering?"

"Just commenting. You should do proper background checks on your next man."

"Gotcha. I'll be sure to take your advice under consideration."

"See that you do." The timer went off on her desk, so she set about wiping that awful healing gunk from his forearm with quick, decisive strokes of a washcloth. She let him keep smoking while she did so, probably so she could enjoy what lingered in the air. Then she shifted gears, her brilliant mind hopping from subject to subject until landing somewhere he couldn't follow. "The idea that pleasure drove our species forward really does boggle my mind."

Jesse felt like he was turning red as the tip of his cigar. "Ma'am?"

Moira either didn't notice or didnt care. "Humans will do insane things purely for the thrill of it, to satisfy their curiosity. Great leaps of innovation in science and technology have often been spawned from nothing but a whim and dogged persistence." She rolled his sleeve down, then caught him staring at her. "What?"

"Just havin' trouble following your line of thought."

"Oh. My point is it's a powerful instinct, but you can see how it has a few bugs. We have a hard time resisting what feels good, even if we know it's bad." She set her fingertips on his forearm, where everything still felt warm and soft and tingly. And her other hand on his lap. "Weak, isn't it."

He was liable to chew right through his cigar at this point. Because he wasn't sure she was talking about smoking. Or if she was talking about herself. Or if she was talking about him, because there was no reason he couldn't have applied the gel himself, except he wanted a reason to come in every week and have a half hour of her time, and so he pretended to do it wrong when she sent him home with a vat of the stuff.

So was that a reprimand?

Or an invitation?

 

* * *

 

He laid in bed. Angela told him that she could prescribe sleeping pills but only if he promised to change his behavior as well. No naps, no more coffee, and in bed every day at the same time. Even if he wasn't sleepy. Something about ritual, she said. Or no. Routine. Same but different. One more sinister. He tried not to think about it.

Jesse closed his eyes, pulse thrumming under his skin. The pills didn't help him relax, and he couldn't take Angela seriously when she suggested lavender bath salts. Come on. Seriously? Did he look like a guy who had bath salts?

Maybe he should give it a try, though. He'd give anything a try right now. Anything except alcohol, that's what Angela said.

So he stroked his fingers over the seam of his pants. And like clockwork, like a needle pointing north, his thoughts immediately went to Gabriel. He grit his teeth and banished the thought, just trying to focus on nothing except pleasure and friction. That quickly grew frustrating, as he couldn't muster up anything more than a buzz under his skin. Good, but not enough to come.

For a long time he thought of his ex-boyfriend when he did this. It was a guilty habit; that man had been responsible for all his first sexual experiences. Maybe it was because of their youth or the sheer newness of it all, but he'd never been able to replicate that sensation. It tied in with the war, as all things did. How he was ruined now, and scarred, and wouldn't ever be the same.

But that man was dead, and Jesse never had to worry about falling into his arms again. So thinking about him was safer than the alternatives. The computers tracked all their search habits, and he didn't like the idea of anyone peering over his metaphorical shoulder. Especially not when he searched for something like _noisy twink gets slammed by big burly soldier_ or an equally obnoxious title. Airbrushed, soft bodies that looked nothing like his.

So he was left with nothing but his own imagination, and his fingers which couldn't quite reach all the right spots. How desperate would he have to get before he slinked into town to buy a toy? Again, online was out of the question.

If the community on base weren't so tight-knit he might feel better about trying to find an anonymous person to vent with. Anyone on the outside wouldn't want him, he was sure. And anyone on the inside was too close to be safe.

He thought of being safe and he thought of Gabriel again, holding him tight against his chest. Jesse melted into the idea, pining for more, for a body between his legs until his knees began to shake. Even then the idea wasn't enough, not until he was surrounded on all sides, surrounded by warm, soft skin.

Soft. It'd been almost _obscene_ how soft Moira's shoulder was.

And then it felt very natural that she invaded his thoughts as well.

She and the commander were always together, weren't they? This should be no different. It was almost wrong to imagine one without the other. Using him, their subordinate, the collective age difference between them old enough to drive.

He got to a point in the fantasy where Gabriel was about to come inside of him. Moira pulled Jesse's head up toward her sopping wet cunt, demanding he service them both, and the second Jesse came he was furious with himself.

_"Shit!"_

He curled up into a ball, gasping heavily with a mess splattered all over his stomach.

Instead of relaxing him, that left him more keyed-up than ever. A heady cocktail of guilt and anger shackled him, and he rubbed his face until he could calm down.

It lingered like a needle in the back of his skull for weeks. This had to stop. He had to cut this off, right the fuck now.

 

* * *

 

 

So naturally he woke up on a cramped bed again, this time stuck to Gabriel's back like a burr, their legs tangled up together.

"I am so, so, so, so, sorry," he said when they were all properly awake. "I normally sleep in Ziegler's room, I didn't mean to do this again." He wanted to sink to the floor in shame, head bowed, but the two of them brushed it off just like last time.

"Fix this for me?" Gabriel said in response, pointing to himself. A loose, rumpled tie hung around his neck, and without thinking Jesse stepped forward to tie it for him. "Thanks. I've got a meeting with the bloodsuckers later today and golden boy wants me presentable."

"You call that presentable?" Moira sneered. "Your jacket is two sizes too big. I keep telling you a tailored suit would go miles towards cleaning you up."

Gabriel dragged a thumb over his scars. "A suit can't fix my face."

That drew scattered, if reluctant, murmurs of agreement from the other two.

"Well anyway, if he's wearing real tight clothes it'd be hard to fight," Jesse pointed out.

He could tell Moira was trying not to smile again. "They're lawyers, not Talon operatives."

"I'd prefer the assassins, myself." Gabe took another look in the mirror, hesitating before he left. He glanced at Jesse, then quickly kissed Moira goodbye. It was more affection than they ever displayed in public, but they weren't in public right now.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Moira asked Gabriel, low and warm, with her hands running down his tie in repetitive strokes.

Again, Jesse was an invader. An intruder. An—

Gabriel kissed him goodbye too, a brief peck on the cheek, and for the rest of the day [Jesse couldn't think of anything more coherent than static and white noise.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6kHsTQoPGS4)

 _I have to cut this off,_ Jesse thought, with increasing frequency and desperation, as time went on. _This is all in my head. I'm stringing myself along and I'm going to cause trouble._

 

* * *

 

Moira kissed him first because she had no shame. It was in her lab, him on the examination table. He sat on the edge, his legs sprawled out, and she stepped between them and pulled him in. It wasn't quite like what he imagined, but her whole body was pressed against his, nails parting through his hair.

Holding her at arm's length, he took a gasp of air. Fear lanced through him cold as ice.

"Y-you're the commander's girl," was all he could think to say.

Instead of a sharp quip or nasty comment, she softened with something almost like sadness. It lasted just a moment. Moira rubbed the back of her hand over his cheek, a wistful smile on her face. "And wouldn't you like to be the commander's boy?"

God.

God, he would.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Gabriel invited him out for drinks. Genji, too, but the younger man just stared at him with wide, eerie red eyes, so they took that as a "no".

Jesse arrived to see them near the bar, striking and beautiful in their own way. The two of them stood out from the crowd with ease, a clear space around them as no one wanted to get too close, rub shoulders with them.

Gabriel spotted him first, harsh lines on his face softening with a smile. "Jesse!" he shouted, and Jesse had to remind himself that he was a soldier trained for a life on the battlefield and he would not turn tail and run because a hot older man _smiled_ at him.

When he walked up close enough to greet them, Moira did a double take. "Oh no," she said, aghast. "What did you do to your face, McCree?"

Startled, Jesse rubbed his chin. He thought it'd be nice to clean up a bit before his ~~date~~ meeting with his ~~friends???~~ with his _elders_ , god, with his _superior officers_ , with the head of medicine in Blackwatch and Commander Reyes. The rules against fraternization were shaky at best in their operation because Gabriel was never one to follow the rules, but this was definitely against _some_ rule.

A cold drink was pushed into Jesse's hands. "Ignore her."

She smacked the back of her hand over her palm to emphasize every other word. "No! You need to hear the truth. Men look better with beards." Moira shot him a pointed look. "Gabriel."

"I already told you no," Gabriel said, instinctively stroking his goatee. "My shit takes forever to connect, I'm not going to suffer weeks of scruffy indignity because it turns you on."

"All right," Moira responded, "But this?" She gestured to his face. "Is pushing it. You trim it one inch further and I'm not fucking you anymore."

Jesse burst into laughter, setting the drink down on the bar so he wouldn't spill it. "He's trying to save his pride, darlin'," Jesse said once he could breathe again. "Were you there last time he gave regrowing it a go?"

"No," Moira said, and Jesse realized she must be a few pints in already because she was _pouting_. "All I've seen are pictures of the finished product."

The commander crossed his arms tightly, scowling at her. "That took years."

"I can wait. I'm a patient woman." This time Gabriel and Jesse both started laughing. Drawing herself up to her full height, Moira stared down at them in unfocused anger, struggling to maintain it while tipsy. "That was rude."

She swayed a moment before righting herself.

"I'm going to the bathroom," Moira announced. Then she marched off, not unsteady at all.

Jesse chuckled, planting a cigar between his lips. But he thought twice about lighting it up when the bartender starting giving him hard glares. Noticing, Gabriel nodded for Jesse to follow him, and led them both outside.

The bar had a patio, mostly empty at this time of year. The cold winds were just starting to bite, not that either of them minded. Jesse was made of stronger stuff than the average man, and Gabriel seemed to eat up the cold. It was times like this that Jesse realized Gabriel radiated a _lot_ of heat, and he tried not to think about the reasons why. None of them in Blackwatch were normal. It wouldn't do him any good to speculate on things best left unsaid.

"Moira gonna find us ok out here?" Jesse wondered, lighting his cigar at last.

"She's a smart woman, she'll figure it out."

Another thin wooden bar stretched over the railing of the patio, set up next to tall chairs. They pulled up a pair and sat side by side, Gabriel drinking, Jesse puffing away. Companionable silence. They could spend the whole night like this, had spent days like this, perfectly comfortable together.

"Say, kid—" Gabriel started.

"If it's all right to say, commander—" Jesse spoke at the same time.

They regarded each other.

"You know I'm not your commander outside the field," his commander said softly. "We're a bit past that at this point, aren't we?"

A loud cheer went up inside the building, the rumbling of something exciting. Crowds of drunk, happy people, living without fear because of what he and his squadron had sacrificed.

They were Blackwatch; they shouldn't have been scared of anything.

But he was deeply afraid of fracturing what he and Gabriel had. That he could say something like that so flippantly was just more proof of how fragile this really was.

Because Gabriel had always been his commander— would always be.

"I suppose," Jesse said, peeling the label on his beer bottle. "Hard to remember sometimes. You talk to me like I'm seventeen still."

Gabriel grimaced. "Sorry. Guess that can't feel too good."

"No, sir."

Another cheer rose up, this time almost loud enough to rattle the building. The two of them looked up and frowned, perhaps picking up on the same scent. It had been a while since Moira left. Then another loud shout erupted from the building, and Jesse and Gabriel went inside to see what trouble she had gotten herself into.

Surrounded by a semicircle of shouting people, Moira unsteadily aimed a dart at a board across the room. Standing next to her was a huge, hulking man more metal than flesh. Though he wasn't taller than her— few people were— he outclassed her in weight three times over. He had a handful of red-tailed darts clenched in one steel fist, and was glaring at her so hard Jesse could see his pulse beating on his neck.

Moira threw the yellow-tailed dart at the board, striking a perfect bullseye. Another loud cheer went up. The board was riddled with plastic feathers, all of them tightly clustered at the center.

Even with her jacket discarded and her shirt unbuttoned just past her clavicle, Moira was sweating hard enough to almost glow in the hazy yellow lights. And she was grinning like a fiend.

"Oh, she's drunk," Gabriel said with some concern.

"Yeah, she's, super drunk."

Moira threw another dart and with that secured her victory over the giant, forcing him to hand over a wad of cash for losing. Upon spotting Gabriel and Jesse, she waved the bills happily in the air as if it were an exciting new specimen she had discovered. "Commander! Look!"

"So _she_ can call you commander outside the field?" Jesse wondered, but Gabriel didn't get a chance to respond as Moira met them halfway.

"I beat everyone," Moira said proudly when they approached. Then she pressed both her hands to Gabriel's chest, leaning down to nuzzle her forehead against his.

"Well," Jesse said, rolling his shoulders with exaggeration. "You won't beat me, ma'am. And that's a promise."

He swore the challenge made her eyes shine like a knife blade. "Ohhhh?"

Jesse took the darts with the red feathers, tossing one into the air to test the weight. "I reckon I can win, yeah. And winner gets to pick where the next date is."

"I accept your conditions. But you're going to regret it, darling." Slipping her winnings into Gabriel's back pocket, Moira gave Jesse another kiss on the lips before retrieving her darts. She left the two men alone to their suddenly stony silence, the silence that one of them had to break eventually. Maybe the commander wasn't as good at this 'feelings' stuff as he let on.

"Um," Jesse started.

"You should play," Gabriel finished.

"Yeah. I'm gonna go play darts."

"All right."

Despite the fact that Moira was definitely missing every other step now, she had razor focus when the dart was in her hand. With surgical precision she landed a perfect score. But then again, so did Jesse.

It ended in a draw, to everyone's frustration. The fire in Moira's eyes hadn't died at all, and he had a feeling she was a sore loser, but like hell was he going to back down now.

Until Gabriel rested his hand on the small of his back. Tensing up, Jesse froze mid-throw, eyes on the target. That "not breathing" thing might have been good for shooting, not so good with darts where he needed to move more than just his trigger finger.

"C'mon, Jesse. You can beat her. I've got twenty bucks riding on this."

He tried to talk, but instead made a little noise, a strangled little yelp or a whine, maybe. The touch wasn't bad. Not at all. That was the problem. It took all of his energy and mental willpower to not do something stupid, or say something he might regret, and he glanced over to Moira in the hopes she would say something instead.

The doctor was passed out at a nearby table, forehead against the wood grain.

"Oh."

Following his gaze, Gabriel huffed. "That woman has no sense of self-preservation."

"Nobody in Blackwatch does," Jesse pointed out.

"Fair."

So the game came to an end. Gabriel paid their tab and hoisted Moira up under his arm like a disobedient child. She couldn't be completely out of it, because Jesse saw her tuck her knees in a bit so her toes didn't drag on the floor when Gabriel carried her out of the bar. But Jesse couldn't bring himself to say anything.

The bar was closing, anyway. Most of the other patrons milled about the parking lot with cigarettes and cell phones, calling a cab or a friend or stumbling into their cars stinking drunk and letting the auto-drive take them home, red tail lights blurring into the darkness.

In front of their car, they had a welcoming party. Three guys. Including the big half-robot guy Moira took all that money from.

[Ah, great](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2raxfQHXQv4).  

"Evenin' gentlemen! Y'all drive safe now," Jesse called out, trying to swerve right around them and just get into the car. But one of them stopped him with an arm across his chest, staring down hard at him.

Ahhhh, great.

"Is there a problem?" he asked with a big cocky smile, disarming, he hoped. Jesse had charmed his way out of more than one encounter with an alpha-male type douchebag with pride thin as silk.

Gabriel watched for now, murmuring quietly to Moira before letting her feet hit the ground. She leaned heavily against him, face to his shoulder. "If you want the money you can have it back," she said, muffled. "It was a pittance anyway."

"I told you this was their ride," metal guy said, talking to his crew instead of Moira, sounding a little too happy. "Overwatch sends all their agents in pretty little white cars when they go off base."

"You boys looking to enlist?" Gabriel asked too glibly, and the metal guy started it by taking the first swing.

That was a mistake.

The three Blackwatch agents were on the man like dogs on a rat. Gabe's inhumanly strong hand grabbed him by the wrist mid-swing. Jesse went for the gun hidden under the man's jacket, and Moira's claws dug into his neck, draining him dry in an instant and letting him fall down, out cold.

Jesse took a look at his stolen gun, quickly disassembling it and dropping it in pieces at their feet.

"Anybody else?" Gabriel said to the other two, who both drew their weapons.The silence was broken only by sparse, popping gunfire as the posse managed to get a few shots in before the agents closed the distance. Gabriel sank into the ground and rose up behind one of their attackers, ink and shadows pouring off him in waves as he got him in a chokehold. He blazed heat, hellish black fire and poisonous gas.

Rolling to the side, Jesse weaved and ducked until he was staring down the barrel of a gun, and he grabbed the man by the arm and snapped his wrist damn near clean in half.

"McCree!" Gabriel shouted, eyes wide. "Watch your six!"

He turned around just in time to see Moira pounce on another man who had been trying to sneak up behind them. No weapons, she just _lunged_ at him like a fucking wildcat. The man was only able to let out one scream as she dug her nails into his chest. Pure instinct, so loud it would run a throat ragged. Quickly, Moira cut it off with an iron grip on his throat.

This wasn't a clean knockout. She was taking her time with this last one, making it hurt, with her long fingers wrapped around his neck. Until he wasn't fighting back anymore, just limp and gray and lifeless.

Moira unfolded herself, standing up straight. Stone-cold sober and pissed off. Other than exhaustion drawing tight lines around her mouth, her expression betrayed nothing, foxlike and unreadable. Her clawed right hand burned bright purple in the darkness.

"I left him alive," she said shortly before Jesse could ask.

In the distance they heard a siren wailing. Jesse knew the next few weeks would be hell as the three of them tried to clean up this mess.

"Thanks."

Moira shrugged, rolling up her right sleeve before flexing her right hand uncomfortably. He'd never seen her do that trick without the apparatus. "A corpse would have been harder to explain."

"Can we do something else next time?" Gabriel said as the sirens weaved closer. "Something low-key, maybe. Like karaoke."

"Sounds fun," Jesse said. "Sounds fun to me."

 

* * *

 

They didn't get to do karaoke, or anything else.

Weeks of heavy scrutiny followed them, the black sheep over Overwatch. They were fortunate video evidence corroborated their story that the attack had been self-defense. The ones who attacked them had a long rap sheet and an axe to grind against the establishment. But at the same time, _there was video evidence_ , and that was never a good thing. Not when your commander wasn't entirely human. Not when the head of medicine could drain people's life with a touch of her hand.

Not when Jesse still had a bounty on his head, leftover from his days rolling with the notorious Deadlock gang. 

Blackwatch was supposed to be his redemption. Who else would have given him another chance? Who else would understand?

They only had each other, Jesse realized as he waited outside of Gabriel's room.

"Commander?"

Rustling noises sounded inside the room. Then Gabriel opened the door, a little unkempt, casual. It was a good look on him. The short sleeves bared most of his arms, squeezing tight to his heavily muscled frame.

On instinct, Jesse took off his hat, though he wasn't sure why. "Hey, commander. I was hopin' we could talk?"

"Of course. I told you you're always welcome in here."

When he stepped inside, Jesse got a whiff of spices, onion and smoke. Gabriel had ordered in from somewhere outside the base, rather than head out to the mess hall.

Jesse had actually suggested the mess hall for their next date. Less chance of things getting explodey. Scenic. Less chance of getting into a bar fight. Passably good food. Moira and Gabriel had nearly laughed their heads off at that one.

 _Their next date._ Was he really thinking that?

He was. And they did nothing to dissuade him of the idea. Jesse struggled with how he felt around them.

Safe.

That was a good feeling. Couldn't put a price tag on that one. Didn't people kill for that? Hadn't he already killed for that, or something like it? Hadn't they all fought in the war together? Hadn't they all earned a little bite of that peace?

"Jesse?" Thankfully Gabriel didn't sound upset as he pried Jesse away from his own thoughts. "One of these days you’re gonna space out like that behind the wheel.”

He apologized quietly. Then, "Can I sleep here tonight?" he asked, before he lost the nerve. "...With you? And Moira too, if she's swingin' by?"

Gabriel Reyes smiled. Fond and gentle, he pulled Jesse into a tight embrace. Jesse returned it, melting into the affection, in awe that it was so easy to obtain, so freely given. This whole time, all he had to do was ask. He felt numb with relief, the post-toothache, general anesthetic kind of numb where it hit from one spot and spread all over.

In the wake of no more pain, pleasure rushed to fill the vacancy. Points of heat, Gabriel's bony, calloused knuckles rubbing over Jesse's face. It had been so long since he let anyone touch him gently, and soon he started shifting in place, standing between Gabriel's legs as he rested his head against the older man's shoulder. It bled over, gentle caresses and strokes, like affectionate cats, like two falcons preening.

Jesse wanted to say something, to acknowledge how this was making him shiver from head to toe. What did he think would happen if he spoke? Was he scared of breaking the spell, of the gentle way they rocked from side to side?

The hiss of hydraulic doors opening behind him made him break into a cold sweat, because he knew who would be on the other side before he even turned around.

She balanced three bottles of wine and a bag of ice in her arms, trying to strap her carabiner full of keys back onto her belt loop and too distracted to notice what was in front of her. Moira, of course. Who else had access to the commander's rooms?

"Sorry I'm running late, Gabriel darling, I—" she said, and then looked up and paused.

"Hey, honey," Gabriel said back.

Sunglasses on her face made it hard to read her expression, but Jesse could clearly hear her tone. "Hmm. Didn't expect to see _you_ here."

Jesse had to fight against the instinct to recoil from the commander's grasp. They weren't doing anything wrong, he didn't want Gabriel to think he was ashamed of this.  "No need to sound so thrilled," he drawled back.

The doctor's pale eyebrows rose. Then she pushed her sunglasses up to rest on her fiery crown, studying him with a sharp grin and narrowed eyes. "All right, then. I'll move this along so we don't waste any more of our time."

Bustling past them, she set the ice down and popped open a pale bottle.

"Gabriel," she said, leaning against the wall with a full glass in her hand. "Are you going to keep stringing that boy along or are you going to fuck him? Because if you don't do something, I will."

Gabriel choked. Awkward tension ballooned up between them. The tips of Gabriel's ears turned red, much to Jesse's quiet fascination. "We were having a _moment_."

"Mmmm." She agreed with a satisfied hum around her glass, taking a sip. "Yes, very moving. And if you keep at this pace, you might even kiss before the year is over."

Stubborn and silent, Gabriel just burned up underneath Jesse's hands. Trying to soothe him, Jesse apologetically rubbed the back of his neck. "Doc's just teasin' like she always does, Gabe," he reassured him. "We don't gotta do nothin'."

"Oh, good." Moira pointed at Jesse. "At least he still has a sense of humor."

"I'm taking it slow for his sake. We talked about this."

Gabriel wasn't going to let it rest, so neither would Moira. The doctor pressed harder. "Jesse is a grown man, and you're not doing him any favors pretending he doesn't feel the same way we do."

The urge to protest built on the tip of his tongue; he didn't appreciate being spoken over like he wasn't in the room, like he didn't have a say in this. Then Moira's eyes seemed to burn right through him, dark with lust, and he couldn't say anything at all.

Striding over, she kissed him on the mouth while he was still locked in Gabriel's arms.

Shameless. Impulsive, but only after months of careful study. Perfectly Blackwatch.

When she broke the kiss he mourned her absence. This time, with Gabriel's heart beating against his own, it didn't feel wrong. Didn't feel like a dirty secret, though of course it'd never been a secret at all.

"Mm, O'Deorain," he whined when she pulled further away.

She smiled, fondly rubbing the fuzz on his cheeks. Jesse leaned into the touch, pleased that she was pleased. He'd started growing his beard back partially because she liked it, after all. "You want more, don't you Jesse?"

"Uh-huh," he said.

Gabriel held him tighter, inhaling sharply.  

"See, commander? I know when I'm right." Moira kissed Gabriel this time, harder than the first kiss. Gabriel threw it back at her. His teeth flashed white, pulling on her lower lip as his hands drifted down Jesse's back and cupped his ass.

A choked moan left him; Jesse leaned in again, pressing harder against Gabriel as he kissed the side of his neck. He'd wanted to taste Gabriel's skin since they'd first met, back when he really was nothing more than a fucking kid. But Jesse had kept it lowkey for as long as he could, for eleven years, always crafting a reason for why this would never work until suddenly, he was out of excuses.

When Moira spoke again it had a breathless edge, husky with desire. "Now kiss Jesse. You've made him wait long enough."

It was like she'd read his mind.

Gabriel tasted like the white wine lingering in Moira's mouth. It was a shot of pure adrenaline; he grasped Gabriel's head between both hands to hold him in place. They pulled apart for just a second. A staggered, shocked gasp escaped his lips before Gabriel was kissing him again.

"Jesse—" Gabriel muttered between kisses. "A-are you sure you're okay with this? I want you so bad I'm not thinking straight—"

"That's the idea," Jesse quipped, and Moira started snickering.

"Just look at him," Moira murmured. Her free hand grasped Gabriel's shoulder, kneading it with barely contained eagerness. "He's gagging for it. How noble, to try and pretend otherwise." She caught Jesse's gaze as she pressed another kiss to Gabriel's neck. "Indulge him?"

There were only so many ways Jesse could respond to that. His tongue felt glued to his mouth, dry and sticky at the same time. So he tossed out a joke, except it wasn't really a joke. "Not even gonna offer me a drink first?"

Moira twitched her hand out of the way when Jesse tried to reach for her wine glass. It was mostly untouched, Moira's mouth otherwise occupied. "The potential web of controversy, should it become public knowledge that we consummated this relationship, is thick enough without adding _dubious consent under the influence of alcohol_ into the mix."

He tried to follow that. He really did. But Gabriel was grinding against him now, pressing his face to the crook of Jesse's neck. "What?"

"I won't fuck you drunk," Moira said, and knocked back the rest of her glass before setting it aside.

"And since when have you ever cared about controversy?" Gabriel asked.

Frowning thinly, she tugged on his ear. "I care about you not getting into too much trouble, _commander_."

The emphasis on that word wasn't lost on any of them. And for a while Jesse thought that last line would be too firmly entrenched to cross. Then he heard the clink of metal as someone undid his belt buckle. With all of them so close, so many hands, kissing both of them in equal measure to the best of his ability, Jesse couldn't tell who'd done it.

Shit was like hearing the gun to start a race. Jesse lost his mind a little, grabbing the commander and shoving him up against the wall. He'd waited too long, bit his tongue for too many years, tried to beat this down as long as he could but he was tired and he was so turned on it hurt. Jesse peeled that tight shirt from him, kissing Gabriel and moaning at every little touch. His hands splayed out over Gabriels scarred chest, pockmarked from poorly healed exit wounds and the experiments that made him burn with that unquenchable, dark fire.

Pressed against Jesse's back, Moira reached around to undo the buttons on his flannel. She pulled his arms free, letting it fall to the floor. Untucking his undershirt, she scoured five aching red lines across his belly. Jesse hissed against Gabriel's mouth, twisting at the sting of her nails on him. They didn't drink his life force dry, but they made his knees tremble nonetheless. 

She'd unbuttoned her own shirt at some point. He could feel her skin on his back, her small breasts. "I uh..." Jesse stopped, still holdng Gabriel's face. When he glanced over his shoulder, Moira surprised him with another lingering kiss, her tongue stroking his. "Mmh, ah, I ain't ever been with a woman before, so, uh..."

He didn't want to ask for sympathy, or sell himself short, but it was true and he felt it was worth mentioning.

"Don't worry Jesse," she teased him. Her fingers teased him again, stroking lower until she was toying with the dark curls that trailed down from his belly to the hemline of his pants. She undid the top button, leaving Gabriel to pull Jesse's fly open. "Feel free to call me _sir_ in the bedroom if it makes you more comfortable."

Now it was his turn to burn bright red.

Stripped down to their underwear, he and Gabriel tumbled into bed together, still kissing. Kneeling with his hands on Gabriel's shoulders, Jesse twitched when the commander grabbed him by the thighs. He pushed them open, his thumbs sinking deep into tense muscle.

Moira hung back for a moment, refilling her wine glass and watching with patient glee, predatory and hungry but waiting for the right moment to pounce.

Then Gabriel's hand was on him, tracing the outline of his shaft through the thin layer of his briefs. Just that simple contact had him melting again, leaning heavily on Gabriel, trying to touch him everywhere he could. Over his chest, covered in coarse, silver-tipped hair. Down his solid core, tracing the muscles with admiration.

"Gabe," he gasped, panting, rubbing circles over the SEP tattoo on Gabriel's hip. "Gabe, I love you."

When Gabriel pulled him free at last, Jesse shook from head to toe. Blood rushed past his ears as he reached down to do the same for Gabriel, so he could hold both of them in his hands and rut together, skin against skin.

And Moira said, " _McCree_."

So sharp. Jesse froze, hand hovering over the aching bulge in Gabriel's shorts.

"Not yet." Her voice was smooth then, soothing him down from his initial shock at being barked at like they were on the field. "Gabriel's going to wait his turn."

Jesse looked to Gabriel, who paid him no mind. Electricity sang in the air, sparks flying between his superior officers. Some kind of power struggle was unfolding before him, but Jesse had no frame of reference for how it might progress. If Gabriel folded was he indulging her for tonight, or falling into hard-hammered patterns? Roles and rules. But who held the reins?

"You're so far away," Gabriel purred, changing the subject. "Don't you want to join in?"

"Let me enjoy the show for while first." Moira's eyes shone with amusement. "I know you, Gabriel. The minute you get your hands on me you'll try to spoil me rotten."

"Yeah, how awful of me." As he spoke, he ran his palms up Jesse's thighs again, making him jump. "C'mon. You don't have to play tough in front of the kid."

She took a pointed, silent sip of her wine instead, eyebrows arched. So Gabriel shrugged, and pulled Jesse onto his lap.

He sat in between Gabriel's outstretched legs, laid bare as the commander stroked him from behind. Unhurried, taking his time in order to put on a show for the doctor. Jesse's knees bent, toes curling into the sheets as Gabriel rubbed his thumb over the precome gathering at the tip of Jesse's cock. He rolled that wetness over the entirety of his head, toying with where he was most sensitive.

“Don't be discourteous to our guest.” Moira leaned forward in her chair, eager to see more. "Get him wet first, Gabriel."

Agreeing under his breath, Gabriel stopped to reach for something in the bedside table. A bottle cracked open, and then Gabriel's palm slid over his flesh slick with lube. Jesse grunted, grasping onto the hairy thighs bracketing his. Gabriel responded with a kiss against the back of his neck, lazily pumping Jesse's cock in his fist.

"That's it," Moira said breathlessly. Unblinking, she stared at the two of them with growing hunger. One hand gripped the seat of her chair, knuckles white, her wine completely forgotten. "Just like that— slower."

Gabriel grinned and followed instructions, and Jesse found he didn't mind it. Found he didn't mind anything right then, not with Gabriel wrapped around him. He closed his eyes, completely relaxing into Gabriel's embrace.

He felt a dip in the mattress, and when he blinked, Moira was there in front of him on all fours. She pressed him back with a kiss, surprising him with wine warm from her mouth. Jesse struggled to kiss her and to drink it all, not wanting to spill any on the bed sheets, not wanting to waste any moment her lips were on his.

Breathless, fire in his lungs and throat. Not strong wine by any stretch of the imagination, but it felt like the first time he'd ever had a drink. If he knew Moira, it'd be the only drink she'd let him have all night, in order to keep him sober. Some spilled down his chin, wiped away with a hungry swipe of her tongue. Gabriel cradled his face gently, sucked what remained from his lips and his chin.

Then Gabriel kissed lower, down his torso, pushing Jesse back onto the mattress. He and Moira both ran curious hands over his tattoos. The inkblots that didn't mean anything, not anymore. They kissed him, touched him, Moira content with his mouth while Gabriel went lower. His tongue painted a long, hot stripe over the length of his cock, sucking briefly on the tip before he took Jesse into his mouth. Cheeks hollowed out, Gabriel slowly pulled him deeper, his hand making up the difference when he couldn't quite bottom out.

Moira lay beside him, pulling his upper torso onto her lap. Panting raggedly, Jesse pressed his face to her bare chest, gripping the linen of her open shirt. His low moans sharpened to a ragged shout when she took one of his nipples and pinched it hard.

Her voice seemed to float above him. "Is this all it's going to take, Jesse?" she asked, stroking his body, tracing the line of his collarbone to his shoulders, petting and toying with the dark hair on his chest. A splatter of ink rested over his heart, where once he'd pledged loyalty to the Deadlock gang. She traced it, nails idly following the outline of a patternless coverup tattoo. "Do you want to come like this?"

"Ah—" Jesse wanted to shout _YES_ but then her fingers were in his mouth, hooked over his lower jaw to yank it open. _"Ah—!"_ He sucked instinctively, teeth grazing over them, laving with his tongue. He felt Moira shiver behind him, leaning closer to murmur into his ear.

"Or do you want me to make you suffer?"

Only Moira could make that sound so good.

"Ah—" Say something, boy, say something! Head swimming, he tried to focus on anything except Gabriel noisily sucking him off. A trail of saliva clung to Moira's fingers when she pulled free of his mouth so he could speak. "A-aren't I... supposed to be pleasin' you?" he murmured finally.

She trailed wet fingers over his lips, down his chin. "You please me very much, Jesse."

He clenched his fists, eyes strained shut. Gabriel grabbed his hips with both hands, thumbs caressing the sharp edges. He relaxed enough to take Jesse up to the hilt, swallowing around him.

"Make me suffer!" Jesse finally gasped, head thrown back. "Shit, I might as well."

Gabriel pulled free with a choked noise, turning away and laughing. "You might as well?" he asked after taking a few shallow breaths, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Jesse sat up, pushing his sweaty bangs out of his face. "It's obvious you two are excited to have a new boytoy, I'm game for whatever weird kink shit y'all are offerin'."

Peals of laughter filled the room, Moira's deep and brassy and just a little rough from too much smoking, and Gabriel always on the edge of a growl. "Well, what's the point of having a cute younger guy in our bed if we don't get to spoil him?" Gabriel reasoned. "Come on, Moira, let's swap places. I know what you're after."

She blew Gabriel a kiss before they did just that. Now he was comfortably in Gabriel's arms, corded muscle wrapped around him. Moira was still mostly dressed... they were both more dressed than he was, Jesse realized. Gabe hadn't removed his drawers, and he could feel the fabric tented against his back.

"Oh, I'm in heaven," Jesse said, having caught his breath. Moira stole it right from his lungs when she teased his asshole with one finger, wrapped in latex and slick with lube.

It was all slow, gentle. Moira had long since proved her desire and capacity for violence, so a part of him thought sex would be no different. But then she pushed all the way inside him and he was seeing stars, gulping down his whimpers with unsteady breaths.

"Talk to me, Jesse," Gabriel prompted, finding the lines on his body that Moira had left behind. He brushed his knuckles over Jesse's groin, teasing near his rigid dick but never touching it. Moira made them promise not to. "Tell us what you like."

"I dunno. I don't know what I like." God, he felt like he was coming just from Moira's finger inside him. "I've never done this before," he admitted, quickly devolving into babble. "Not with anyone else, I usually— alone, you know, I haven't had sex in so long, I haven't ever been fucked like this." None of them. He'd never trusted any of them not to hurt him.

"Does it feel good?" Moira's hair was wild, her crisp white shirt rumpled and half hanging off one shoulder. True to her prediction, Gabriel had a hard time keeping his hands off of her the moment she was within reach.

Jesse answered her with a low moan.

It was so much better with someone else. Moira could penetrate him deeper than he could by himself, milking his prostate until his cock was dripping wet with precome. 

It took a long time. Too long for him to have reached this point on his own. By now he'd usually had his cock in his hand. Staying still was driving him crazy. They were both much more patient than him. The benefit of having an older lover, he supposed.

"Good boy, Jesse," Moira said, kissing his sweating brow, elbow working as she slipped in another finger. "Do you want to come like this?"

"Yes," he whispered, spine arching. "I want it. I want to come."

"With me fucking you?" she prompted, warm and purring. "With my fingers?" she shuffled closer, rolling her hips in time with her thrusts. "With my cock? The commander's?"

The question made him dizzy. It never occurred to him that he'd get a choice. When he rolled his hips just the right way, he felt like every touch brought him to brink of orgasm. It built at the base of his spine, sparking up to sizzle his brain.

Gabriel gripped his thigh again, so close to where Jesse actually wanted him. Untended, his dick was flaccid but he was still on the edge, it would just take a little bit to get him hard and then he could come, he was so close—so close— _so close_ —

When he did come it knocked him breathless. Rippling out, in waves. He clenched tight around Moira's fingers, and it didn't peter out but just kept rising. He came with his whole body, every inch of him alight with pleasure until he screamed, nearly sobbed.

Drenched in sweat, Jesse stared at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. In and out of focus, Gabriel and Moira looked down at him, equal parts amused and concerned. They asked him if he was fine; he was still feeling the aftershocks and couldn't answer. When Moira pulled free he almost wept; the sound of her snapping her glove off and tossing it aside was deafening.

"Let me," he finally said. "Let me touch you." He kept her cheek resting against his palm, stroking Gabriel's leg with the other. "Please."

That made Moira laugh again. "In a moment, Jesse. I'm not finished with you yet."

She stripped off her slacks, kicking them off the bed. In her rush, she left her shirt on, and wouldn't stay still long enough for Gabriel to push it any further than down her shoulders.

Jesse gasped again when she knelt over him, sliding her wet folds over his dick. He thought maybe he'd be too sore, too raw for what she was doing, but found himself responding as though she hadn't just fucked his brains out. That first orgasm had been so different, _too_ different, and his cock was acting like it still hadn't been satisfied.

With just a little bit of friction he was erect. She kept him in place with one hand, rolling her stiff clit against the underside of his cock. Bending over, Gabriel kissed her again. Slow and deep, the smack of their lips almost as obscene as the sound of Moira grinding harder against him, hot wet flesh, slick, eager. The next pass of her hips had her hissing, crooning in pleasure as she sank onto him with no resistance whatsoever.

 _"Fuck!"_ he shouted between grit teeth, twisting even as Gabriel tried to keep him still. It lingered in his throat, raw and raspy. She rode him furiously, her clawed right hand creeping up his chest until it lingered over his throat, resting over it in a loose grip. She didn't even seem to realize she was doing it, breath coming out in low huffs, eyes closed in concentration. Jesse felt a pull, like his blood was responding to some uncanny call. But the expected life drain never hit him; Moira just seemed to enjoy the reminder that she could do it, if she wanted to.

You didn't need a psych degree to see how she relished her power over him, needed to be in control of this. How the feeling of his pulse on her palm sated the hunger his cock couldn't fulfill.

"Give it all to me, Jesse," she said, breath coming out in staggered huffs. "Give it all to me."

After that, Jesse couldn't have held on even if he wanted to. He went rigid, grabbing her by the hips so hard he left red marks on her pale skin. Fucking her ruthlessly, he spilled inside her, tension uncoiling from the base of his spine and throbbing out in bursts of hot pleasure. A little whimper left her throat, her rhythm stuttering and off-kilter as she came soon after he did, rubbing her clit in quick circles.

Struck mute, Jesse breathed heavily, trembling as she twitched around him. Silky soft, even softer than the rest of her, the faint ripples of her orgasm finally relaxing into nothing but wet, molten heat.

Moira sat back on her heels, still intimately linked with him. She let out a breathless huff of laughter, trying hard to keep her voice collected, and carefree.

"Hmm. All right." She ran her nails through her hair, as though she could smooth it back into place. It sprung right back up, cropped short and spiked at every which angle. "Now I'm done."

He patted her thighs, wiggling underneath her. Sensitivity was starting to bleed out from a warm buzz to a painful one. "Good, now get off."

"I already—"

"She already did!"

Gabriel and Moira spoke at the same time, matching grins on their faces. They stumbled over the pun, rushing to be the one to say it first. Soon the two of them were helpless with giggles, lying sprawled out next to Jesse on the bed.

"Hey, commander?" Jesse asked into the air, still a little too shy to face Gabriel's cool gray eyes. Imagine that, being shy after what just happened. "Can I uh... can I take care of you now? Is that okay?"

"I think," Gabriel said, his grip on the back of Jesse's neck managing to be soothing and exciting at the same time. "You should clean up your mess first."

That was how he was pushed onto his belly. Gabriel's weight was an intoxicating distraction on his lower legs, Moira's thighs pillow-soft on either side of his face. He was intimidated, for sure. Lying back and letting her use him had been one thing. Actively trying to please her was going to injure his pride one way or another, he could already tell.

Her lips were flushed, red and wet, his come dripping out of her. The sight caused a stirring between his legs, pride mixed with raw, animal lust, and just a bit of chagrin. He didn't know the first thing about what she liked but he knew his own taste, so he sought it out, licking her clean all nice and polite like the commander had said.

"Just like that, McCree," Moira said, her voice sounding rusty and worn out, filling his head with warmth like whiskey. "I'm still sensitive, so don't get too energetic just yet."

He nodded, mouth muffled. Jesse plunged his tongue inside her, stroking softly like she'd asked. His nose was buried in wild red curls that traveled up and petered out just under her belly button.

Cute.

"He's good with his tongue," Moira noted, almost dry. The grin lines around her mouth deepened. "Shame you'll only have him... nnn." Her words cut out in an unexpected groan, teeth biting her lower lip. Perking up, Jesse repeated his last motion, thrilled to see her struggle with the rest of her sentence. "Mm.... After I've worn him out..."

Riding his high, Jesse stopped long enough to prop himself up on one elbow and look her in the eye. "No," he said, confidence bolstered up by the rising blush on her cheeks.

"No?" she sounded amused again. "You're telling me you don't want to service the commander?"

"Um. Not with my mouth." He was pulled out of his thoughts when she stroked a hand over his head, closing his eyes in bliss at the doting touch. Then he remembered himself, and hungrily glanced over his shoulder at Gabriel. "I want him to fuck me."

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up. "Sure."

He stripped his underwear off, and Jesse sat back a moment to admire him. Thick and veiny and uncut. For an instant, he almost regretted his decision. Because right then there was nothing he wanted more than to feel Gabriel come in his mouth or his fist or between his thighs, spilling over his stomach.

Then Gabriel was kissing him again, sweet, and messy. He arched down to bite his shoulder, gently pressing Jesse back into the mattress and working his cock with more lube. Moira grabbed Jesse's head with both hands, pulling him back to his task, and then all he could focus on was the scent and feel of her. Just like his fantasy, and it was almost enough to make him come undone again.

"Use your lips, McCree," she instructed. Any lingering fears he had about his ignorance were quickly wiped away. Moira was exacting and decisive, and very, very clear about what she wanted done where and for how long.

Unlike Moira, Gabriel didn't use gloves when he plugged Jesse's asshole with first one finger, and then two. This whole evening had been a lot of firsts for Jesse, and a small part of him was still afraid it would hurt. But when the commander finally pressed the head of his dick against Jesse's entrance, all he felt was longing.

The commander sank inside him, inch by inch. Then emptied out, left with nothing. Again the commander started, pushing a little further each time. A slow, aching stretch that made him stop and rest his forehead against Moira's thigh, fighting back a yell. "Gabe, that's so good," he said, twitching his hips back so they were flush together. A spray of sparks lit up behind his closed eyes, so he did it again, moaning wantonly. "Oh, that's so perfect, that's so good."

"Distracted, are you?" Moira teased, running her claws down the back of his neck.

Playing along, Gabriel chose that moment to thrust inside Jesse, so he could only respond with a shout.

Gabriel set a steady pace, but not a quick one. He kept Jesse anchored with a tight grip on his waist, holding his ass in the air. His knees were spread wide around Jesse's, and with each pump of his hips they threatened to buckle underneath him.

"Watching you two is a treat," Moira said, slowly raking another set of lines across his shoulders. "But I do expect you to finish the job, McCree."

"Ah, Moira I'm, m'sorry," Jesse spoke, kissing desperately between her thighs and legs in an attempt to get back on track. "I'll do you too, I promise I—" It turned into another stream of unintelligible noises, punctuated with a soft shout of surprise every time Gabriel sank in as deep as possible.

It felt too good, pleasure fluttering inside him, the waves cresting higher and higher.

"I'm gonna come again," he said in a whisper, trembling. "Oh god, Gabe, I'm gonna fucking come again if you keep that up."

"Good," was all Gabriel said, before shuffling closer, bracing his knees and pumping faster, jackrabbit quick. Overcome with the urge to do something, anything other than just lie there and take it, Jesse licked and sucked at Moira's entrance. He got her grinding against his face before he found her clit and sucked on it lightly, interspersed with light flicks of his tongue.

He felt Gabriel's orgasm a split second before he heard it. A pulse of heat inside him and then the older man collapsed on his back, riding out the waves with long, slow thrusts, growling like an animal. Gabriel reached out to link their fingers together, palm pressed to the back of Jesse's hand. Gabriel's touch was scorching suddenly, tipped in long black claws that burned like ice.

But it lasted only a second; Jesse blinked and the demonic claws were gone, smoke and ink coiling into nothing.

He didn't have time to think about it when Moira was coming on his mouth just a split second later. He had his tongue buried deep inside her, free hand rubbing her clit the way he'd seen her do it. A rush of wetness gushed around his tongue, a glass that overflowed and spilled the more he tried to drink.

"Enough, enough," she whispered, dragging him away when she couldn't take anymore. "That's good, Jesse." She stroked his hair, touching him with infinite fondness and pride. "That's enough."

The three of them relaxed in silence, breathing and sweating and as coiled as tightly together as they could possibly be.

"So. Did you come?" Gabriel asked, pressed against Jesse's back.

It was so hard to think, much less talk. Jesse felt like he was floating, still deep in orgasmic haze. "I think," he said sleepily. It didn't really matter if he had come again, that wasn't half as good as being right there in his arms.

"You _think_?" Moira said, sounding offended on his behalf. "Tut, tut, Gabriel. This is why you should leave the boys to me. I never leave them guessing."

As punishment, Gabriel reached over and spanked her so hard the sound echoed off the wall. Moira shrieked with indignity, playfighting back as best as she could with Jesse in between them.

"Miss Moira," Jesse cut in before they could get into a jokey, flirty little argument over him again. "I'd appreciate it if y'all stopped callin' me kid or boy. I'm twenty eight. I'll have you know I'm a grown-ass man."

"Oh yeah?" 

Gabriel reached between them, cupping Jesse in the palm of his hand and squeezing, making him gasp. 

["Prove it." ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7awq_VEdZzk)


End file.
